Page 118 of The Grand Duel

My smile is instant despite my whirling thoughts. “Fuck.”

“Yes, fuck.” She grins. “If you didn’t have a pretty face, I’d have been out the door.”

“So shallow.” I tut, not being able to help it. She’s too easy to go toe to toe with. Too easy to sit here and just…be with. And I know it’s not just the drink tonight. I know it’s more than that.

It’s because I like her.

Because I want to know more.

I tilt my head back to see her better, needing to see her better. “You think I have a pretty face, Lis?” I tease, falling right back into her playfulness.

“The prettiest,” she declares. “It annoys the shit out of me.”

I match her smile, hating how hard it’s getting to even try hiding it. “The things you do to my ego.”

“Am I stroking it, Charles?”

I shake my head, not missing the double meaning in her words. “You’re a heller.”

“Please.” She waves me off. “You barely know me.”

“That’s not true.”

“No? You ignore me at work. I’m pretty sure you don’t even know I’m there for the most part. Unless you’re disagreeing with me.”

“That’s not true either.”

“Isn’t it? What do you know about me other than what I’ve told you tonight?”

“I know enough.”

“Like what?”

I frown up at her, the list too long. My gaze catches on her nose. “Like how it looks like you have six freckles on the bridge of your nose but up close, this close, there’s actually seven. Those two there”—I reach up and gently brush my finger over them—“they’re just so close together it’s hard to tell them apart.”

She goes quiet, and I grin. “See. I know things.”

She reaches up and bats my hand away playfully, taking hold of my hand and linking our fingers. “Four weeks ago, I’d have put money on you not knowing the meaning of a smile, Charles Aldridge.”

“Four weeks ago, I didn’t feel the way I feel right now.”

She looks to her ice cream in a bid to hide her blush. Only I caught it—stored it away, too.

I watch as she dips the spoon into the pot and lifts it to my lips. I open my mouth and take the scoop. As she pulls away, I grasp her wrist, bringing it forward so that I can suck off the chocolate on the outside of her thumb.

She chuckles and pushes my head back playfully, but I grab her arm, laying it across my chest and keeping hold of her for a little while longer.

She sighs, looking down at me. “You know, Charles, I think I might fancy you a little bit.”

TWENTY-THREE

Lissie

Trust me to buy a pizza to help sober myself up only to complete the mission with one singular sentence.

“I didn’t think I was your genre of man?” he says, smiling up at me.

“Shut up.”